26 November 2013

Turns out there's a time and a place for acrylic. No really, there is.

It snowed last week so it must be Winter. And The Boss needs a warmer school jumper. If I'm going to knit one, then it's got to be acrylic. I'll tell you for why.

For two quid you get a ball of yarn as big as a large baby. And if you are going to risk making your child look like the 'special' one in the playground, you really don't want to spend actual money on actual wool, in case the whole idea is rejected after day one by a small person who suddenly realises that fitting in is very VERY important.

While we're talking about cost, perfectly adequate generic supermarket school cardigans cost less than a fiver. A hand-made school jumper has got to compare favourably with that. I might have my head in the clouds but I'm not a bloody idiot.

It's going to have to be chucked in the machine along with everything else. Often.

While it's a horror to knit with, it is actually making quite a nice, tight, even fabric. My tension must be all over the place because the stitches keep sliding around on the needles, but the yarn is incredibly forgiving of that; the fibres seem to find their own squashy equilibrium.

Her favourite jumper is the fuchsia Rubble I made while waiting for the Dragon Baby to arrive. The fuchsia Rubble that has recently gone missing. (We'll discuss it later young lady, mark my words.) I think that pattern'll make quite a nice school sweater. Long-sleeved white t-shirt underneath and her grey skinny jeans... we might be stretching the uniform policy to breaking point, but there aren't many acceptable acts of mild anarchy in family life. You've got to take them when you can.

Probably get 4 sweaters out of that ball...

So listen, I think this might be my final Yarn Along post. But if there was ever a good reason to start a blog, Yarn Along has been it. A better source of inspiration, help, advice, ambition and charity I couldn't have imagined. And as for the (largely) women behind the posts? Truly I feel like we are face-to-face friends now. Though you won't be reading my waffle any more, I'll still be reading yours.

And do you know the strangest by-product of Yarn Along? I get sent all these mysterious emails from various publishers and book websites, promoting their latest Young Adult fiction. It took me the longest while to figure out that it can only be because I've typed "YA" and "book" into a whole lot of blogposts, and the bots must have tracked my keystrokes or something. I've never knowingly read Young Adult fiction in my life (and honestly, can't see it happening, no matter how many newsletters I get from Goodreads. Soz chaps.) Anyone else had this YA misunderstanding happen to them? No? Just me then.

So there we are.

I'm so delighted to have linked up with some of you over at my new portfolio site, or on Pinterest. I don't want to lose touch, so if you haven't visited yet, I'd love to see you there. I believe my new place is on Bloglovin, though I have simply no idea what that means. So please, if you do Bloglovin type things, then y'know, do whatever that is.

Sounding like a halfwit yet?

Well, let me redeem myself by trying to appear frightfully clever: you remember when I won that design competition back in July? The Art Deco design thing? Well, the silk scarves are now for sale here. Can you believe it?! I really can't.

I'm powerfully un-cool about the whole thing. I'm literally jumping up and down and pinning these images twelvety times a day. My resolution on January 1st 2013 was "to make something capable of selling this year" (notice that I didn't have to actually sell it). So it's seriously mind-bending to have sold a few hundred pounds worth of cards and tea towels this week alone (and some of them have even sold to strangers; a crucial milestone!). I have grinned dumbly at this silk scarf web page for A. Long. Time. I don't even get a profit share, so I don't know why I'm so pleased. It just looks so PROPER. I think it might be the first New Year's Resolution I've ever kept.

www.betafashion.com

So, that's where we are right now. Technically inept, terminally uncool, and draping The Boss in acrylic (while I lust after silk). I can't quite decide whether it's all downhill from here on, or if things can only get better. Either way, it's been lovely Yarn Alongers, and everyone else. Thank you all, Happy Thanksgiving, and I'd love to see you over on the other side sometime soon.

04 November 2013

About ten years ago I lived in a wee flat with my friend and work colleague, we'll call her Bella, because that is not her name. Across the landing was the flat of another friend and work colleague, we'll call him Bazza, because that is not his name.

It was all very Friends. Except that we lived above a sandwich shop rather than a coffee shop... oh, and it was in a small, skanky armpit of a Scottish town rather than NYC. So not at all like Friends really.

Anyway, after every jolly evening down the pub, we would end up back at Bazza's flat, playing loud Indie music, getting more and more sozzled while we moaned about the state of the place we had to work in. In certain ways it was great. But the greatest thing about the whole set up? I would excuse myself for a wee bathroom break, and then without the others noticing I'd nip back across the landing to my flat and go to bed. Bella and Bazza would continue with their party, too pissed to realise that I'd been gone for hours. We'd all feel like death warmed up the following morning, but I'd have the rosy glow borne of a few hours more sleep and a few hours less beer. The very definition of smug.

So, I admit it, I'm the party slope-er-off-er. Have you ever done it? Has anyone ever done it to you? I can only imagine how annoying it is to realise that your friend left hours ago without saying goodbye, and is now fast asleep (in pyjamas, with her make up taken off) while you got so plastered waiting for her to return from the bathroom (three hours ago) that you can't even say pyjamas, let alone contemplate the whole face-wash/tooth-brush caper.

I sense that your opinion of me has fallen somewhat. What can I say. We were young, and I'm a pain in the arse.

But I am determined not to be the party slope-er-off-er from this here blog shindig. I feel it would be rude, after all this time, and after we've had so much fun, to just disappear without so much as a by your leave. And so I have some finale posts planned, this being one of them. There's a Yarn Along or two in the pipeline perhaps, certainly a final fling with a Random Recipe. I keep you (literally) posted.

So "why has the blogpost cupboard been so bare recently?" I hear you ask in your best faux-sincere, head-tilty lilt. A neurosis shared is a neurosis indulged after all, and I do ever-so like to indulge.

Well, it turns out that sometimes it's best to take the plunge and commit to something wholeheartedly, rather than to dither about. And so it is with the illustrating lark I've found myself in. I have taken the plunge, put my name behind it and a tiny wee bit of money too.

So instead of planning a lovely, theoretical, perfect creative business where everything's just "so" before I begin (and therefore will never actually exist) I realised, for once in my life, that I had better just bloody well get on with it. Full steam ahead.

And none of it is perfect, none of it matches, and I haven't found my own personal illustrative style yet, but the process is great fun. Precious few hours are left for my witterings about cake, and wool, and cake, and my apple trees (and did I mention cake?). But while I may seem to have disappeared altogether, I'm actually all over the place. Just not here.

And what I'm trying to get at is that I would love to connect with you in all these online places. Because otherwise we'll not bump into one another all that much any more, and that would be an awful shame. (But, don't worry, I still read your blogs, so I'll continue sticking my beak in where it's not required in the comments sections, thank you please very much.)

Anyway, while you're filling your glass and having a wee browse through those links, it's getting late so I must just nip to the bathroom. I may be some time...